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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29693829">Gunpowder and Sugar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Geeky00_00Goggles00/pseuds/Geeky%20Gets%20Freaky'>Geeky Gets Freaky (00Geeky00_00Goggles00)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Bottom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Dom/sub, Dominant Angel Dust, Face Slapping, Fluff and Smut, Gun Kink, Hair-pulling, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Humiliation kink, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's 4AM, M/M, Not really but better safe than sorry., Oral Sex, Soft Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Somewhat Rough Oral Sex, Subdrop, Submissive Alastor, Top Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Vulnerable Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), humanbin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:35:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29693829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Geeky00_00Goggles00/pseuds/Geeky%20Gets%20Freaky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alastor finds out that Angel is quite capable with firearms in several different capacities. Angel just wants his boyfriend to have a good time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gunpowder and Sugar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time he'd noticed anything amiss was the first time he took Angel hunting. His beau had expressed curiosity about how exactly the venison made it onto their table. Being from the city, the blonde-brunette had never learned. Alastor was happy to oblige him. What Alastor had not anticipated was how aesthetically pleasing he would find that particular picture. Angel looked positively divine while haloed in the evening sunlight. Elegant hands adapted beautifully to the unfamiliar shape of a hunting rifle. Alastor had known his boyfriend was good with guns. He hadn't realized <em> how </em> good. The focus in his expression was practiced and professional. Trained. <em> Intense. </em></p>
<p>The radio host paused in appreciation for a brief moment before the trigger was pulled and he just barely avoided jumping and ruining the shot. The bullet flew true and struck the twelve-point buck in the heart, killing it quickly. The triumphant and slightly aggressive sound from beside him made him feel warm. The tan man swiftly ignored that in favor of tugging his beau in for a congratulatory side hug, and excitedly vaulting over their makeshift hiding place.</p>
<p>Best not to dwell after all.</p>
<p>………….</p>
<p>The second time was when they had managed to save enough for a clay pigeon thrower. They had talked about it before, and Angel had managed to put down enough of a payment to secure one for his birthday. Alastor was ecstatic to say the least. Angel barely had time to register what the brunette was doing until he was tugged gleefully into their yard to set it up. The ex-mobster was happy to go along with his currently slightly manic boyfriend. Half a bottle of wine and a load of shattered clay later, Alastor thought it would be a smashing idea (pun intended and delivered with a wink) for Angel to see if he was still sharp enough to hit one with his revolver. The shorter man's chuckle made him warm once again. A small part of him just wanted to see his beau shoot again.</p>
<p>This time was different from hunting. Angel shot with a near-lazy and familiar confidence. His eyes were narrowed at his target like a contented cat. Slim shoulders went lax as their owner breathed deeply and pulled the trigger. The sharp pop and the faint smell of smoke sent a jolt down Alastor's spine. Angel blew the smoke away from the end of the barrel, evening light shining through the curls of smoke and back-lighting his Angel in a deep pink. The radio host swallowed hard, blinking owlishly at the handsome creature in front of him. Angel made sure the gun was empty before twirling it around his finger in what looked like a practiced motion.</p>
<p>"Still got it. Whaddaya think, Smiles?" Angel cocked his brow and a lazy smirk graced his lips. Alastor floundered for a second.</p>
<p>"I… I see that your erm… you haven't atrophied in the least my dear!" He clapped in a small show of applause. Unfortunately, he hesitated a second too long and Angel squinted at him. He began walking closer.</p>
<p>"I heard that hesitatin', mistah. Are you implyin'..." he purred with a playful lilt. "...that I…" he moved closer still and Alastor was rooted in place. Angel came within inches of being pressed against him. He could just barely hear and feel the blonde-brunette breath. "...lost my touch?" He huffed, chuckling a bit. The salacious man raised his eyebrows and pointed the revolver beneath the radio host's chin, keeping his finger clear away from the trigger. On instinct the taller man began to raise his hands in surrender. His entire body felt warm. Angel was just messing with him, but he felt far more than he was sure he was supposed to. The shorter man continued.</p>
<p>"Insultin' a mafia prince gets ya pounded. Them's the rules, Smiles. Now what kind of pounding…" Angel backed away, not wanting to actually scare his boyfriend (though he doubted he could). "... is up to me." He winked and stuck out his tongue. He got worried when he didn't get any banter back. Angel took in the state of his boyfriend. The man was blushing a fair bit, his face looked like a deer in headlights, and…</p>
<p>"Are you hard???" The working man asked bluntly. Alastor blinked, registered the state of himself, and swallowed thickly. He fidgeted as he began to walk back inside.</p>
<p>"It seems so, how unseemly! The human body and all its functions, how they confound us, yes? Now, inside we go!" He chattered, getting only a few feet before a hand caught his elbow. He stopped dead, most certainly without a quiet squeak thankyouverymuch. Angel circled around his front and gave him another once-over. Alastor resisted shifting under the scrutiny.</p>
<p>"Angel dear, please do not make a predicament out of this." He demanded, though it came out as more of a plea. Angel pouted at him.</p>
<p>"You sure? You look cute when you're flustered." The working man said lowly. Alastor huffed in indignation. Angel just laughed and began to head back inside. "Fine, fine. I won't botha you about it fa now, Smiles. For now."</p>
<p>Alastor sighed and followed Angel inside. That was going to come back to bite him later. The shiver at that thought was either in fear or delight. He wasn't quite sure which.</p>
<p>…………….</p>
<p>The mocha skinned man found out three weeks later. It was both, leaning heavily towards the second one.</p>
<p>They were doing a scene, not an uncommon occurrence. Angel had stated that he wanted to try something new and surprise his boyfriend with something he'd enjoy. Alastor, while not much for surprises, knew that the other man was trustworthy enough to allow him to do something so intimate. That didn't stop him from trying to suss it out beforehand anyway. Clearly, that was unsuccessful. Thus, here Alastor knelt, tied up lovingly on their shared bed. He was nude aside from his boxers. A cloth gag was set firmly between his teeth. Every muscle seemed to twitch and flex against his restraints. The ropes were treated and silky smooth. They would leave marks, but they wouldn't burn. Perfect. The longer he was left there, the more his head started to buzz with questions and anticipation.</p>
<p>Then, all at once, those thoughts were cast aside.</p>
<p>"Alastor~." Angel crooned from the doorway. Alastor didn't speak, he simply stared at his beloved in slack jawed awe. </p>
<p>Angel was leaning on the doorframe. He was dressed in a fine pink suit with darker pink pinstripes. His shoes shined and his gold tooth glinted in the low light. What caught the tanned man out was the sidearm resting on the short man's hip. When the ex-mobster saw him staring, a smirk graced his face. Alastor gulped. He felt his shorts start to constrict.</p>
<p>"Mistah Leblanc… how've ya been?" Angel purred, stalking closer. The question was rhetorical, so the curly haired man stayed silent and unmoving. "I'll remind ya, just so's we're on the same page." The dominant man said, finishing with a growl. Alastor made a small noise behind the gag when Angel surged towards him and grabbed him by the hair. The working man clenched his fist hard enough for it to sting. Alastor huffed. His cock twitched. "Ya been gettin' a bit too big for those britches o' yours, Leblanc." Angel continued, releasing his grip and leisurely petting his boyfriend's scalp before he spoke again. "We're gonna fix that attitude." The shorter man drew his weapon as he talked. He used it to lift Alastor's chin to look his looming beloved in his mismatched eyes. Angel smiled, sickly sweet.</p>
<p>"We're gonna play a little game. Howzat sound, ragazzo?" The working man breathed, face mere inches away from his own. Alastor gave a short nod and shifted uncomfortably in his binds. His boxers were definitely tighter. He shivered when Angel slowly pulled the hammer back, eye widening when he aimed it at his own head. He pulled the trigger and the click seemed to echo in their shared space. Angel then leveled the gun between his boyfriend's eyes. Alastor panted in exhilaration at the perceived danger. He squirmed frustratedly, either wanting to escape or press his forehead against the cool metal. Angel chuckled darkly.</p>
<p>"Oooh so the bad boy knows this one, eh?" The ex-mobster said mockingly. "You're such a freak, y'know that?" Angel admonished, pulling the trigger with another heavy click. The bound man's breathing picked up as the danger grew. His head swam with adrenaline and anticipation. Angel looked conspicuously down his body, lingering on perked nipples and his concealed hardness. All Alastor could do was squirm and try not to blush. Both courses of action were futile. Angel made a small moue of false sympathy, clearly enjoying every minute.</p>
<p>"Ya cute when ya struggle, babe." He praised, stroking his knuckles and the gun's muzzle along where ropes crisscrossed tan skin. "Makes me think about tyin' you up more often. Would ya like that, ragazzo?" The working man murmured. Alastor hit him with a look of mild reproach. He didn't miss the subtle, fond quirk of his beau's lips. The expression was gone as fast as it came, replaced with practiced unamusement. The revolver was aimed at the radio host's welcome captor. An olivine finger pulled the trigger.</p>
<p>Click.</p>
<p>"Look's like ya still got an attitude issue, don't it?" Angel stated flatly. Alastor almost rolled his eyes before he felt something cold and hard press the outside of his shorts. Alastor gave his beloved a hard stare, diminished by the red blotches painting his face and the twitch of his dick against the pressure. Angel grinned, tongue between his teeth, when he felt the feedback of an aborted thrust against his hand. His boyfriend was quite the sight to see. The blonde-brunette ran his free hand over spit-slicked and slightly chapped lips. He traced the natural, angular lines of his lover's jaw and shoulders. Alastor leaned into the gentle touch. Angel's eyes flashed and his heart flipped. The ex-mobster thumbed over a nipple as he pulled the trigger. An involuntary jerk. Click. The fabric caught in Alastor's teeth continued to dampen with his erratic breaths. It was getting harder to hold back the urge to seek more contact, to thrust into whatever minimal pressure Angel would give him. Finally, the shorter man positioned the gun at his temple once more. Alastor couldn't sit still for love or money.</p>
<p>Click.</p>
<p>Angel's shoulders relaxed, and with a sly smile regarded his captive.</p>
<p>"I win, babe." He says lowly. The working man leaned in close enough to brush his lips against a gagged mouth. "I deserve a prize fa winnin', don'tcha think?" He whispered, voice rumbling with excitement. Alastor nodded, mesmerized. The sickly sweet grin was crawling across Angel's face once more. "Good boy. On the floor." Angel ordered. Alastor moved to comply, though he needed a bit of help. Once the brunette looked up from landing on his knees, he was met with the barrel of the gun pointed at him and his beau's face of empowered pleasure. It was intoxicating. Angel loved seeing the hazy, half-lidded expression his boyfriend wore. It looked like he finally stopped thinking and planning and worrying. He was just this. This beautiful mess. Lightly calloused fingers undid the gag and tossed it onto the bed. Alastor barely registered the change, focused more on his captor's voice than reasserting his own. He did notice that Angel removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The gun glinted as he moved, dangerous as ever. Alastor hadn't realized his mouth was open until his chin was tilted up by a firm hand, a thumb pressing against his bottom lip. The mocha skinned man panted, mouth open, with his tongue out just far enough to brush the tip of an olivine thumb.</p>
<p>Angel had to stop himself from snapping right there. He took a deep breath and settled back into his role.</p>
<p>"You were made for this, weren'tcha?" He growled, aiming the end of the gun just shy of his boyfriend's lips. "Go ahead. Admit it Leblanc. Admit this is what you wanted. All the fuckin' trouble, just for this." He affected a put upon attitude, discreetly adjusting himself in his slacks. Alastor, for his part, clenched his still bound fists. His sense of pride was thrown into sharp relief, ever refusing to be beaten. He both hated and loved this part of the game. The simultaneous shame and acceptance from his beau made his head spin. Just to be difficult, he bore his teeth and went to snap at the end of the gun. Angel darted his hand away just in time to avoid teeth. Instead, he buried his fingers in Alastor's hair and <em> pulled, </em>holding him away from the revolver aimed at his face. Alastor's surprised "Ha-!" gave him pause.</p>
<p>"Color?" He whispered.</p>
<p>"Green as grass, cher." The bound man's voice strained, though his lips quirked up at the show of concern. Angel sighed in mild relief, then adjusted his grip on curly brown locks.</p>
<p>"Then say it, Leblanc." The blonde-brunette hissed.</p>
<p>"I'm not- mm!" Alastor began to protest before the gun was holstered he was slapped with an open palm. The strike stung, then tingled. He tried valiantly to continue. "Noth- I was- ah!" He managed to stammer before being slapped again, backhanded this time. The heavy breaths he felt coming from Angel only enhanced the bloom of pain.</p>
<p>"Last chance." The ex-mobster grit out, leveling the revolver right between his captive's eyes once again, hammer pulled back (though if one cared to, they would notice that his finger was not on the trigger). There was a moment of silence as Alastor's pride crawled off to die for a bit, and the twin sensations of pleasure and long unused shame flooded in. He gave a quiet whimper as his cock twitched in his pants. He shook as he mumbled something that sounded like assent, but…</p>
<p>"A little louder, ragazzo." Angel teased, knowing he got him. Alastor's breath shuddered before he shuffled forward and nosed at the barrel of the gun.</p>
<p>"I-...I want it. I wanted this. Please…" he panted, lapping at the smooth, shiny metal. "...just… just l-l-let me…" He pressed an open mouthed kiss to the metal, looking up through his lashes at his beau.</p>
<p>Angel smirked and palmed himself through his slacks. He pressed the end of the gun between parted mocha lips.</p>
<p>"Go ahead, ragazzo. Do a good job and I'll give ya one better." The working man promised. Alastor's eyes widened then his eyelids drooped. He blissfully lapped at the outside of the weapon, curling his tongue around the barrel. His muscles flexed and strained at his binds, wanting to hold Angel's wrist as he worked. He teased the gun's muzzle with his lips then nosed his way to where Angel grasped the weapon. The last straw for the shorter man was when he felt a pink tongue dart out and catch both skin and metal. Angel growled and threw the revolver onto the bed. He tightened his grip again on his boyfriend's curls, drawing a low whimper from the man below him. Angel couldn't get his pants undone nearly as fast as he wanted to. Alastor's mouth hung somewhat open. Perfect. The ex-mobster tugged his boyfriend towards his cock by the hair. He dragged his tip, pearled with precum, across his lover's tongue.</p>
<p>"Suck." Angel ordered. Alastor eagerly obeyed. He suckled on the head of his beau's cock, dipping his tongue shallowly into the slit. The salt and bitterness felt like a reward. He nosed down the length and into the curly hairs at the base and lapped his way back to the tip. Angel's knees almost buckled when he swirled his tongue around the crown. Angel just held onto his boyfriend's hair for dear life, scratching his fingers along his scalp. The small breaths and satisfied noises coming from below him were driving him wild. He took it further by slowly pressing forward as Alastor began to take more of him in. The taller man's satisfied hum of having his mouth filled tore a moan from Angel's throat. The bound man began slowly bobbing his head, taking Angel deeper on every pass. He barely managed to fit his beloved's cock down his throat. He went to pull back but was caught by his hair. He gagged and tears started to form at the corners of brown eyes. He forced himself to breath through his nose and relax his throat. Alastor revelled in the discomfort, the humiliation, and the accomplishment of it all. He stayed even after the hand in his hair began stroking his jaw.</p>
<p>Angel watched as mischievous eyes, still full of tears, looked up at him. He felt everything as Alastor relaxed his throat, sucked, and <em> swallowed. </em>The working man panted and groaned at the brazen display. He didn't know if he was more proud or aroused.</p>
<p>"Hnnn…  bene ragazzo!" He breathed, carefully pulling his hips back. Alastor was panting around him, hardness cushioned on his tongue. Another deep breath and Angel was engulfed again and again. Alastor preened as his mouth was filled, valiantly ignoring his own erection. He worked his beau over until he was murmuring "Yes, yes, yes." Every pass. He felt a slight tug on his hair and whined. He felt more than heard Angel speak. "Al, I-... hngh, gonna… gonna... c-cum." Alastor hummed in acknowledgement. He did not pull away.</p>
<p>Angel moaned when Alastor's hot, wet mouth stayed wrapped around him. The small hums and blissful look of his boyfriend were too much. Angel held his lover still by the hair and buried himself to the hilt, cumming down Alastor's accepting throat. He heard and felt every swallow and he wasn't sure if he had whited out. He pulled out and looked down to see a bit of fluid dripping down his lover's chin. Alastor was breathing hard, but he looked like a wrecked masterpiece. Alastor shifted under the undivided attention, dick hard and uncomfortable pressed against the front of his boxers. He watched his beau stand up and move behind him, untying the ropes. Practiced hands smoothed over lithe muscle, soothing some of the tension in them. Angel soon stood then lounged lazily on the bed, picked up his gun, and aimed it once again.</p>
<p>Despite his current state, Angel's aim was still dead on. Alastor gulped and let himself anticipate that last pull of the trigger. Instead, he heard an order.</p>
<p>"Touch yaself." Angel rumbled, pants still undone, eyes boring into his own. Alastor was trembling, but didn't hesitate to lean back on the floor and remove his boxers. He flushed further as his cock was an angry shade of reddish-purple and standing proudly away from him. As he took himself in hand, the radio host became more conscious of the fact that Angel had not looked away. Alastor attempted to avert his gaze and avoid the bright, mismatched irises of the other man. Angel was at his side in the blink of an eye, stalking from the bed, gun in hand. He grabbed Alastor's jaw too tight for comfort and pressed the muzzle of the revolver firmly against his forehead. The tan male stopped stroking as he was held in this new position. His cock throbbed with need in his hand.</p>
<p>"Eyes on me." Angel murmured. "I wanna see how humiliatin' it is when you cum for me." He demanded, all milk and honey.</p>
<p>Alastor whimpered, his ever present smile having dropped off a long while ago and his pride flung out the window. His precum dripped down his shaft, easing the slide as he stroked himself. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere else to look, only Angel's oddly calculating gaze. Every expression and every move he made was being watched. Examined. <em> Devoured. </em>Alastor stroked faster the longer Angel looked. His hips pumped desperately into his fist, his forehead brushing against cold metal with every movement he made. He circled his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock and squeezed, making himself finally cry out in an attempt to make it last just a little longer. He was leaking, nearly crying, and frustrated. He was reduced to pure need.</p>
<p>Finally, he couldn't hold it back. He released the base of his cock and fisted his shaft with both hands. He came hard across his stomach and chest, sobbing at the release. The great "Radio Demon",  the award winning hunter, and the southern killer had no place in that moment. Right then, he was Alastor Leblanc, the creature of need, shaking as he cums with a gun against his head. A gun that is instantly cast aside in favor of holding the slowly crashing radio host in front of him. Angel's gaze softened and sharp words became murmured praise as they tumbled out of his mouth. Alastor clung to his beau, refusing to admit to the overwhelmed, relieved, and mildly embarrassed, tears that Angel knew were there. The ex-mobster just held his boyfriend and helped bring him back down.</p>
<p>"Tell no one." Alastor's voice shook, betraying everything he didn't want anyone to see… except for one. "T-tell… tell no one of me… like this…" Alastor damn near begged, clinging hard to Angel's shirt. Angel just kept holding him.</p>
<p>"Couldn't get me ta trade this for love or money, Smiles. Ain't nobody gonna know, okay? I gotcha Al." Angel murmured, rocking slightly to calm his lover down. He made a mental note that this type of scene was an intense "sometimes food". He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a quiet snuffle from in his arms.</p>
<p>Alastor was asleep.</p>
<p>Angel smiled at the cute wrinkle of his boyfriend's nose as he passed out. What was less cute was the cum and sweat drying on the both of them. Angel reluctantly nudged his lover awake.</p>
<p>"Ey." </p>
<p>"Mmm?" Alastor sat up, bleary eyed.</p>
<p>"Bath, now." Angel insisted. Alastor was not as keen, burying his face in his beloved's chest.</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"Fine, but don't blame me when that…" Angel points to the mess the mocha skinned man made of himself. "... decides to dry and get even more gross."</p>
<p>That seemed to do the trick. Both men hobbled leisurely to the bathroom to clean up. Soon after they wound up in bed, asleep.</p>
<p>Peaceful and loved, the both of them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*the next morning*</p>
<p>Al: Angel, please tell me that gun wasn't actually loaded.</p>
<p>Angel: *sweats* No. O.o</p>
<p>Al:...</p>
<p>Al: You know for some reason I don't believe you.</p>
<p>(Actual A/N: The gun was not loaded, do not fellate loaded guns my dudes. It's a bad plan.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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